


Eavesdropping

by aquileaofthelonelymountain



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, bagginshield, dwarves aren't very subtle, seasonal fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 03:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13045551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquileaofthelonelymountain/pseuds/aquileaofthelonelymountain
Summary: Bilbo's dwarves act suspiciously secretive, and despite their efforts the hobbit learns that they are preparing for a feast. While Bilbo at first assumed that there might be a Yuletide celebration, they plan something different ...





	Eavesdropping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [obviouslyelementary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/obviouslyelementary/gifts).



> Dear obviouslyelementary, I hope you enjoy my little gift for you :D  
> I wish you happy holidays and a good start into the new year!!

Something was going on in Erebor.

Whatever Bilbo’s dwarves were planning, they tried to keep it a secret from him – they weren’t too successful, though. It was just like when they were trying to tiptoe: They themselves thought to be quite good at it, but anybody who wasn’t a dwarf could only shake their head at them.

So far, Bilbo had caught Bombur, Dwalin, and what seemed to be a whole company of cooks falling abruptly silent when he had entered the kitchens to grab a little treat; Dís and Dori had continued a whispered talk only when the hobbit had disappeared around a corner; and Thorin had tried to hide a piece of paper beneath a heap of other documents at his entry. Bilbo did them the favour and pretended that he had no clue what was going on, but from several snippets of conversation he gathered that they were planning a feast.

Bilbo had thought that Durin’s Day was the only feast the dwarves celebrated in a big way since it was their most important holiday. He didn’t know much about their other holidays, but since it was winter he had at first assumed they were preparing for something similar to Yuletide. His heart had beaten faster in anticipation: He had always loved the Yuletide celebrations back in the Shire – the gingerbread, the mulled wine, the evergreens and mistletoes.

But then he caught other whispers, and his heart sunk again as he realized that it wouldn’t be a Yuletide celebration.

The feast would be held to celebrate the king’s engagement.

The news hit him unexpectedly, and he felt like a fool because of it. Why was he so surprised? It was only natural for a king to wish for a consort at his side, someone who understood the ways of a kingdom as vast as Erebor and who could thus support him. To have someone at his side who could offer him advice, and comfort … Bilbo had wondered from time from time if there was someone waiting for Thorin back in the Blue Mountains, and he shouldn’t be surprised to learn that there was someone indeed. How could he have expected a brave, kind and stunningly beautiful dwarf like Thorin to be unattached?

Still, Bilbo felt a lump in his throat at the prospect of Thorin getting married. He knew already that his feelings for Thorin were in vain, and that what he dreamed of would never come true – the King under the Mountain and the burglar, such nonsense! Not that he had stayed in Erebor because he had wished that he might be wrong … But he had at least hoped that they were close enough for Thorin to tell him about such an important decision. Instead he had literally stumbled upon it, learning the big news from Erebor’s gossips.

But then again … Would he really have wanted to hear such words from Thorin himself?

Bilbo’s grip around the documents he carried tightened, and he scolded himself for being so careless. They were full of numbers and figures, and he needed them for his appointment with the king. He was determined to do his best in the process of rebuilding Erebor, and he wouldn’t let anyone see how gloomy he felt.

He put on as cheery face as he could manage and raised his hand to knock on the door of the council chamber. He stopped the movement, however, as he heard Dís’ incredulous laugh.

“So you still haven’t asked him?”

There was a grumbled answer, almost swallowed by more giggling, but it was still loud enough for Bilbo to recognize Thorin’s voice. He let his hand sink again and wrapped his arms around himself, not caring if the documents got crumpled.

“What are you still waiting for, cousin?” Daín’s voice, rough, but not unkind. “Just go out there and propose already!”

“Exactly!”, Kíli chimed in gleefully, and his brother added: “Everybody will be so happy for the both of you.”

Standing in the dark hallway in front of the closed door, Bilbo couldn’t help but feel betrayed. Not that he begrudged Thorin his happiness, of course not! But did the others really have to talk him into making his engagement official?

“The lads are right”, Balin said. “I know there have been concerns about how the people of Erebor would react to your decision, but we’ve –”

“Balin”, Thorin interrupted him softly, but with a hint of the stubbornness the hobbit had grown so fond of, “I don’t care about those concerns. There is only one choice for me.”

The elderly dwarf chuckled. “Yes, you made that very clear.” Bilbo heard several dwarves huffing good-humouredly at that remark, and it made him smile faintly as well. But it quickly vanished from his face when Thorin spoke again, his voice so infinitely soft.

“I love him with all my heart, and everything should be perfect. That’s why I haven’t asked him yet.”

An exasperated sigh – Dwalin this time. “So what’s still missing? Don’t tell me you’re still not satisfied with the cake – Bombur has baked it at least a dozen times to get it _perfect_ , as you put it, and I’m fed up with trying.”

“No, it’s not the cake – by the way, I still have to write to Beorn and thank him for sharing his recipe with us… It’s the flowers.” Thorin sounded thoughtful. “The elves have already answered my request, but until they’re finally here …”

“The elves”, Daín grunted. “You’ve really asked those pointy-ears to send us some weeds.”

“Flowers”, Thorin insisted. “There have to be flowers. Bilbo adores them, and I want him to be happy.”

“And you’re afraid”, his sister teased, “that proposing to him won’t be enough for that?”

Bilbo almost let his documents drop at that. Not really knowing what he was about to do, he tore open the door and found a bunch of dwarves staring at him – Dís and her sons, Daín, Balin and Dwalin … and a rather pale-looking Thorin.

“M-my apologies”, Bilbo stammered. “I … I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but then … Thorin …” He swallowed. “I heard you say such beautiful things, and I … I just couldn’t stay silent anymore.” He took an insecure step forward. “Is it true, Thorin?”

The king looked at him, barely able to meet his eyes. “That I love you, and wish you to be happy? Yes.”

Bilbo took another step, carelessly putting the documents away; he didn’t even look if he had stored them safely away or if he had missed the side table completely. “And …”

“And that I’m selfish enough to wish that I was part of your happiness?” They were only inches apart now, and Thorin opened his arms a little. It was difficult to tell if the gesture was meant as an apology or an invitation, but Bilbo decided for the latter. With a sound like a mixture of a laugh and a sob, he bridged the last distance between them. He leaned his head against Thorin’s chest, and the dwarf wrapped his arms around him, warming him far better than any hearthfire could do.

They enjoyed some long moments of pleasant silence before Bilbo couldn’t hold his curiosity back anymore.

“Have you really asked the elves for flowers for me?”

“Peonies”, Thorin whispered into his hair, and his thumb drew soothing circles over Bilbo’s back. “I remember you saying that they grew under your bedroom window in Bag End, and that you often awoke with their scent in your nose …”

With a smile, Bilbo snuggled closer to Thorin. “Yes”, he mumbled. Then, once again, but with more resolve: “Yes.”

He felt Thorin’s arms around him tensing, and he looked up to meet the dwarf’s wide gaze.

“You’re … You want … I mean, I haven’t even asked you properly …” His stammering was absolutely endearing, and Bilbo raised himself on tiptoes to bring his lips close to Thorin’s. He could already feel the dwarf’s breath on his skin, and –

There was a mumbled comment that sounded suspiciously like “about time”, followed by supressed giggling on Fíli’s and Kíli’s side – and on Daín’s as well, if he wasn’t mistaken –, and the hobbit was reminded that they weren’t alone. He stopped, his face only inches apart from Thorin’s, and smiled softly.

“The marriage of a king … That sounds like a lot of planning, and I’m afraid I don’t know much about dwarven courtship either. Why don’t we go somewhere where it’s just the two of us, and you can answer my questions?”

He could hear an exasperated huff behind Thorin’s back, but he only waved friendly at the other dwarves before intertwining his finger’s with Thorin’s and following him to the king’s chambers where they could talk undisturbed.

There weren’t many words exchanged, but it was very telling nonetheless.


End file.
